Bygone Apathy
by amateur-hourd
Summary: Lights will guide you home. And ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you. (Coldplay.) AU.
1. Paradise

Should I be starting a new story? Probably not. But I'm really proud of this one (and it's only the first chapter). Please be patient with me on this, though. I'm going to take my time with this story because I need it to come out... close to perfect. I've done my research, so...

Here goes.

* * *

_Augusta, Georgia_

"_Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more, no!"_

"Swanson."

"He's not going to listen to you," the twenty-one year old wearing glasses tells his exasperated friend with a slow smile. "He's too busy with his air guitar." He crushes his cigarette into the ash tray on the compartment next to him.

"I don't care," snaps the guy who resembles a human pig. "I did not agree to listen to Kerry Livgren here sing in a confined space for over four hours."

There's a small crash near the back of the bus. "Bumper! Where'd you put the Twinkies?"

Bumper huffs. "Don't touch them! They're mine."

A mop of hair comes stomping over with a frown. Unicycle opens his mouth to argue before plopping back onto his seat after Bumper cuts him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "So not fair," he mumbles.

"Twenty minutes, guys." Aaron "Hat" Matthews raises the volume of the radio from shotgun. The blonde tipped head in the designated driver's seat pushes the hand away from the device and switches stations.

"I liked that song!" Benji complains, not looking away from his deck of magic cards.

Bumper pulls on his maroon hoodie as he says dryly, "Why would you want to listen to the radio when we have Swanson giving us a hell of a performance."

This finally catches the attention of the seemingly distracted Treble blocking all outside noise with his headphones. "It's called Music Appreciation, Andrew." His cheeky remark is met with a hiss of "Don't call me that."

"Will you guys shut up?" The lump under a multitude of blankets asks. "I'm trying to sleep here."

"You've slept the whole fucking ride! I'm the one who's suffered!"

Donald rolls his eyes as he lights another cigarette. "Bumper, dude, you're getting naggy."

Benji scowls when he sees Bumper get the look on his face that preludes an oncoming, what the group collectively calls, Allen Never-ending Nag Fest. "Can we just wait the, what, fifteen minutes left to get there? I know it's been stuffy and annoying but come on, guys. Just a few more minutes," he pleads. There's a synonymous grumble of agreement before each one of them settle down with their own method of distraction.

Jesse pauses the song wafting in through his ear phones and leans his forehead onto the cool glass of the bus window. He watches the open road fly by, the green slowly fading as they reach a small section of woods. The bright light streaming through the bus windows disappears abruptly as they head into a dark opening where one can only see long, brown tree trunks hovering over the two sides of the road.

He hears Unicycle choke on a mouthful of chips on the seat across from him. "Creepy, much?" The dark skinned boy mutters as he tightens his grip reflexively on his one-wheeler.

Jesse glances over at him and chuckles. "Blame him," he motions his head to Bumper. "Never know where he's taking us."

Heaving heard, Bumper glares over at both from the tops of his crossed arms and sneers, "You'll take those words back once you see my grandfather's place. I said it was going to be the summer of a lifetime and it will be." He reaches into his pocket for a Twinkie, ignoring Unicycle's offended gawking as he slowly unwraps the plastic and takes an exaggerated whiff of the sweet aroma.

Jesse snorts while Unicycle grumbles. He looks back out the window once light streams in again. They've passed the woods and entered a small clearing, their teeth snapping closed as they come across an unexpected, bumpy part of the road. Bumper lets out a loud gasp as his treat falls to the bus floor and Unicycle takes great delight in pointing and laughing.

"Shit," Austin says as he throws off the blanket covers, holding onto his seat. "We're gonna end up with a flat tire!"

"It's fine," Brandon tells him once they've reached smooth road again and his hands have stopped vibrating on the steering wheel. "It's lucky we didn't," he remarks.

The Trebles nod in agreement as they gain their balance. The bus floor now looks like a waste area for plastic wrappers and empty soda cans. "Damn. I told you guys not to leave junk on the car seats. I'm not cleaning that up," Donald shakes his head.

"Just leave it," Austin waves him off. "Are we there yet?"

Aaron calls back, "Yeah, Bumper, man, how long is the driveway exactly?"

"Pretty long," Bumper inspects his nails. "Like I said before, Grandfather was rich."

"And he's not anymore?" Jesse asks curiously.

"He lost quite a bit after his company went bankrupt, but he got to keep this place because it was in his father's will or something like that," Bumper shrugs. He wrinkles his nose as he contemplates his next sentence, "The place has been deserted for years, actually. No one really came here much. Just a cleaning maid once every month to check up on things."

Unicycle and Benji's heads snap back to look at him. "You mean there's a high chance the place is probably haunted?" Unicycle squeaks. Benji also wears a worried grimace.

Bumper guffaws, "Geez, you two dweebs are hilarious. Yeah, it's definitely full of ghosts. And they go straight for dorks like you." He snickers as he picks invisible lint off his collar.

Jesse chuckles when he sees Benji and Unicycle's frowns. "Guys, you know he's just teasing. There's no such thing. Relax."

"Woah. There it is," they hears Aaron say in awe from the front.

And there it is.

Painted a soft gray, the chipping roof a light blue, the house looks like something out of a Gothic Revival era, every bit as big and ancient looking. The first thing you notice as it comes into view, besides the size, is the amount of windows. They line up on the right, the left, and they even round a small tower on top of the house. Regardless of the extensive pieces of glass, the house doesn't look like it gets much light at all. The windows are dark, even more so with the curtains drawn closed, and they look to be made of steel. It looks to have three floors, plus an attic and maybe even a basement.

There are three main balconies spread throughout the second and first floors; the rest are significantly smaller. There's a front porch that wraps around one corner and some stairs leading to the main entrance. The front door is one of those large, double wooden ones you see in movies, with the large doorbell off to the side. There's a chimney; scratch that, two chimneys. And a tower that extends outward. In the middle of the main driveway, there's a large fountain that obviously stopped working a long time ago.

The house may have a deserted vibe to it, but its sturdiness and stability is easily visible.

The eight Trebles get off the bus slowly, one by one dropping their bags on the ground in front of them in disbelief.

"Damn. Even I didn't expect _this_." Bumper gawks…and gawks. Then a smug smile slowly crawls up his face. "_I told you guys._"

Brandon claps him on the back. "Okay, I'll admit it. This summer is going to be awesome."

Jesse grins. "You came through, man."

Unicycle shifts uneasily. "I don't know. I don't like it."

"Dude, it's going to be fine," Donald puts a hand on his shoulder. "Places like these are great once we get inside, open up all the curtains, and light everything up. You'll see." He picks up his bag and shoots a wide smile at the rest of the guys. "Time to pick rooms. And go!" He races off and six pairs of feet follow after him immediately.

"No fair! I still have to park the car right!" Brandon yells after them as muffled laughter drifts back. "Assholes!"

* * *

"Go! Go!"

"Quit running so fast! This is _my _grandfather's place. I should be granted special privileges on picking- oh, screw it! Move out of my way!"

They take a small second to appreciate the inside of the house before they dart up the steps simultaneously.

"There's another flight of stairs over here!"

"Holy crap, it's like my whole house can fit into the main hall alone!"

Jesse takes the stairs three at a time, glancing back and forth, trying to figure out whether to go right or left. He sees another flight of stairs to the far right leading up to the third floor. He moves toward them instinctively and picks up his pace once he hears more feet pounding after him.

"Third or second floor? Third or second floor?!"

Jesse stops at the top and cups his hands around his mouth. "Benji! Donald! Come up to the third floor!" He calls out. He waits to hear his best friends' footsteps follow after him before going down the hall. From there, he can see down onto the third floor and he takes the time to study the view. He can already tell the house has the cliché drawing room, dining room, study room, etc. Maybe he can even snag an extra room to himself.

The inside of the house smells like books and wooden floors. Any carpeting is a deep brown and the paintings hanging up on the walls look to have frames made of real gold. Jesse runs his hand across the third floor banister and when he looks at his fingers there's barely any dust on them. He frowns.

_You'd think for a place that only has a maid come in once a month there'd more cobwebs or something. _

The dark haired boy purses his lips in thought as he looks down the hall. There are three rooms on his side of the banister and if he rounds the hall, he'll also have the three across from the other side. They all look pretty much the same, really. His ears pick up some movement to his right and he looks to the last room by the far end. Donald must have snuck by him while he was busy checking out the house.

He walks toward the room and the door creaks as he pushes it open. "Hey Donald, how are-"

Nothing.

The room is spacious, a bit dark but that can easily be fixed by drawing open the heavy curtains. It's one of the rooms that have a big balcony and there's also a large wooden desk. The bed is against the far wall and the bathroom only a few paces away. He looks around and feels satisfied with the arrangement. It's a good thing Donald didn't make it there first.

_Speaking of Donald._

"Donald! You find your room yet?" Jesse pokes his head out the door. He sees him come up the steps.

"Yeah," his friend smiles. "I was just about to do that. I just wanted to check out the back of the house first. Dude, it's awesome, you have to see it." Donald pokes his head through a random room and nods. "I'll take this one. Where's Benji?"

"Here," Benji calls, coming up the steps. "This place has a pool, but I'm not sure if it's sanitary."

"It looks fine, though," Donald says. "I expected it to be filled to the brim with leaves or branches and some shit."

"This place is pretty cool," Benji smiles.

Jesse grins at him. "Go pick your room and it'll seem even better." He goes back inside his own room to drop his bag on the bed. As he turns, he notices something that makes his eyes bug out.

There's a keyboard. On the desk.

"Hey Bumper!" Jesse yells as he stares at the out of place equipment. A faint "What?" answers him. "Is this place supposed to have technology?" He hears Donald snort from the hall.

"Well, yeah! How else are we supposed to survive the whole summer? There's a couple of laptops in a special storage closet, too. I have the key. And a TV in the living room. But that's the only one." Bumper's voice gets closer as he climbs the stairs to the third floor.

One TV. Okay. At least he brought his laptop with him. Now he just has to organize his movies and he's good to go.

"I know this place looks old, but it does have electricity, you know," Bumper says as he comes to rest by his door.

Jesse shrugs. "I figured. But this," he points at the keyboard. "Is pretty cool. And I just can't figure out why your grandfather would feel it necessary to have an up to date keyboard in this place. Especially if he never comes here."

Bumper quirks an eyebrow. "I don't know, I guess he knows I'm a music freak so he… wanted to leave options open? There's a piano, too. But don't think that means you can keep us up by playing all night, Swanson. Besides that… the only thing I don't really see us using is the library. I mean, yuck."

"There's a library?" Benji pokes his head, raising excited eyebrows.

Bumper rolls his eyes. "Nevermind. I guess we'll be using every inch of this house. Let's go eat, I'm starved." He takes out another Twinkie from his pocket as he walks out the room.

Jesse shakes his head and looks to Benji. "And your room? All good?"

"Awesome," Benji gives him a thumbs-up.

"Guys! Let's go downstairs, I'm starving!" Donald calls from across the hall.

Jesse rubs his hands together and he and Benji grin at each other as they leave the room. "This place is going to be paradise."

"For the summer," Benji agrees.

Their footsteps catch up with Donald and as the three make their way to the first floor, the soft padding noise fades away. The third floor is quiet once again and in the room, only a small stream of light shines through the now open curtains.

And a voice.

"You have got to be_ fucking kidding me._"


	2. Beginnings

**Yes, I changed the name. It's better this way because I was so excited to post the first chapter that I didn't come up with a name or summary for this story until the very last second. That's something I should never do because it almost never works and the title could end up not having anything to do with the story at all. This title works better, trust me. I'll keep the summary because I've decided to use song lyrics to sort of describe the message of each chapter.  
**

**Also, this is most definitely a Beca and Jesse story, but I didn't put it in the Romance category because they're obviously not there yet and I do think the Friendship is a major factor in this story. But it'll have a bit of everything. As for the suspense.. we'll see how well I can do that. Wish me luck. **

* * *

_"It's like you're always stuck in second gear  
When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month,  
or even your year...  
I'll be there for you."  
_

_ – The Rembrandts _

If you ever asked Jesse how he came to have his semi-dysfunctional – yet still completely respectable – group of friends… all you'd get in response is incoherent mumbling with the sole purpose of disconcerting you so you'd either forget the question, or decide not to care anymore. It is not a tale worth repeating.

Furthermore, it is not that interesting to begin with –

Okay, it starts like this.

He met Donald and Bumper at the tender age of seven. His family had just moved to Kong Street, otherwise known as the suburban neighborhood with large parks and big homes. He grew up there, and it´s where his parents still live presently.

The day after moving in, Mom and Dad encouraged him to go out and play: _Get to know the nice neighbor kids, Jesse. I´m sure you´ll make tons of friends. _They obviously didn't know what was in store for him, because it was on that fateful day, that he met Andrew Allen and Donald Ambudkar. Now, at first, young Jesse had no absolute interest in introducing his friendly self, because… well, no kid in their right mind would have gone near them. Instead, he had stared rather fearfully at the sight still painfully clear as day in his mind thirteen years later.

You know how a fawn tries to walk on its stick legs less than three seconds after being born? It´s cute, but they also look tremendously awkward doing it; however, it is the circle of life so all you can do is sit back and look on as you try to choke down tears… or laughter for those who are particularly insensitive.

Well, take all of the beauty in that situation, throw it out the window, add in more fat to make that baby deer just short of obese, replace "cute" with "horrendously ugly" or "unbearable to look at", and _voila! _You get an eight year old Bumper parading around his front yard in leather heels and a cake face consisting of obscenely bright colors, prattling on about how his mother uses it to look "sophisticated", while eight year old Donald, always cool, even at that age, gnaws on a granola bar atop his bicycle (sans training wheels, because it´s _Donald_) and all but ignores the show on display next to him as if used to such antics.

"You," the kid still known as Andrew back then had pointed at him from across the street with a chubby finger. "What are _you _looking at?"

Small, sweet and innocent Jesse could only stare back, dropping the juice pouch he'd been sipping in horror as Andrew started to saunter towards him, high heels and all, with an intimidating finger still pointed. "I´m gonna get you!" He had continued in a nasally voice, wobbling from side to side with each step. And that´s when Jesse Swanson decided that the guy was funny, and nothing short of entertaining, so he had smiled his bright, dimpled grin and laughed.

Donald, _sans glasses_, obviously approved of this because then he´d waved Jesse over to play Pokémon cards, and they´d already reached the second round by the time Andrew caught up, face red and puffing out breaths like he´d just run a marathon.

They like to remind him of that particular memory; and so does his mother with the pictures she'd taken after calming down her screeching, hands to her mouth, eyes bulging out, at finding her little boy looking very much like her _(except a much more disturbing, even traumatizing version)_. Andrew and Donald were always a year older, always a year ahead in school, but they stuck with him, and Jesse had two official best friends throughout the end of elementary, and all of middle and high school.

He meets the others in fairly normal circumstances. He gets partnered up with Jonathan Manson during sophomore year in AP Biology. They don´t really expect to have much in common, the jock obsessed with shaping his abs and cycling, and the movie buff known for his singing voice from the school talent shows. But they´re both smart, though one shows it more than the other, and they make one hell of a dissecting team.

They don´t start hanging out outside of class until one day Andrew runs over Jonathan´s beloved bicycle in the school parking lot with his newly acquired license, and Jesse has to smooth things over because unfortunately, one: he was in the car, and two: he´s the middle-ground between the junior and sophomore who look like they want to kill each other. So Jesse tries to calm Jonathan down by showing him the part of the bicycle that hadn´t been completely destroyed. He jokes about turning it into a one wheeler; a unicycle. To his surprise, Jonathan´s eyes light up, and he agrees. The next day, his biology partner rides the newly recovered wheel to school; rides it around the neighborhood; rides it everywhere. That´s when people start to call him "Unicycle", as it was rumored that he didn´t let go of it, even in his sleep; courtesy of Andrew.

He did get his revenge, though. Later in Andrew and Donald´s junior year, when their now group of four took a road trip to Donald´s family´s cabin in front of some lake, Unicycle had seen the opportunity of scaring Andrew while he was doing some squats near the water, warming up for a swim. Donald and Jesse had only pressed their lips together tightly to hold back laughter as they watched an almost four thousand pound car sneak up behind Andrew, and with a loud honk, send him flying into the shallow, muddy area of the lake. At the sound of their laughter, Andrew had come stomping out of the water, and sent a strong kick to the car´s bumper in his anger, breaking his foot in the process.

Their road trip had been ruined, but it´s how Andrew got rid of his hated name, acquiring the nickname of "Bumper" and surprisingly sticking to it. Good thing too, because the ones he wanted people to call him would have never worked. Who calls someone "Crush" or "Shades", anyway?

Well, "Bumper" isn´t exactly a step up…

Getting back on topic, the four of them had shared a lot. They went from approving each other´s prom date (yes, they were similar to a girl friendship band thing), to applying to the same college: Barden University.

And that´s what led them here, really. Bumper and Donald had the "Treble Makers" recognized as a-capella kings by sophomore year. Even seniors wanted to join where they found out there was such a thing as a-capella groupies. Jesse and Unicycle, the soon to be college freshmen had no problem with the already decided fate awaiting them; Jesse loved anything to do with giving people a show and Unicycle had already proved he could sing since it was the only way Bumper had "allowed him permission into the group".

Except, their freshmen year hadn´t started off so great because there´d been a mix-up and it turns out, Jesse and Unicycle _won't_ be rooming together. Instead, they get paired up with complete strangers. So for the first few weeks, Unicycle complains about his roommate who insists on wearing a hat indoors and Jesse worries about his seemingly socially inept one obsessed with magic and Star Wars, which he can understand, but _magic?_ He´s ecstatic when he finds out Benji can sing, and then it only takes a little convincing for Unicycle to drag Aaron to auditions to see if he has the same luck, and that´s how they recruit two of their Trebles. Bumper´s annoyed by Aaron´s off-key guitar and Benji´s dorkiness, but Jesse fights for them and it pays off.

The rest of the Trebles were chosen carefully, through match pitch and under Bumper´s watchful, twitching eye. Brandon´s cocky, Austin´s lazy, and Kolio needs to tone down his dancing, but they make it work. Next year though, Jesse will have to worry about replacing the senior Trebles, including Donald and Bumper, who have already graduated but are using this summer for one last trip before going off and trying to survive the official world of adulthood. He´s close to follow, only one year left at university, but this time it won´t be as easy for him and his friends to find what they´re each looking for in the same place.

He knows this. He didn´t expect them to stick together forever. They´re not starring in _Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants_. (Only Donald knows he's watched that movie, so _shush_.) But it's definitely going to be weird for him. All he knows is… the future Trebles have big shoes to fill.

* * *

_Augusta, Georgia_

_1 day later. (Two months, three weeks, and two days to go.) _

"Tell me again why your granddad dude never bothers to come here anymore?"

Bumper grunts as he tries to pull out the footrest from his chair. "Maybe because everything´s a fucking hundred years old," he huffs. A shout is heard immediately after when the recliner suddenly snaps forward and the headrest falls back with it.

"Dude," Brandon says between snickers. "Come on, I´m serious. This place is amazing."

Jesse wholeheartedly agrees as his eyes trace the small, intricate designs in the stained glass belonging to the ceiling. It took them almost an hour to find the lounge, where the TV is located, but as far as they can tell, it was completely worth it. The color scheme is a warm brown, much like the rest of the house, made for relaxation and comfort. The room itself is like paradise and it isn't just because there's a pool table, a fireplace, and a stereo. It's because the flat screen just about takes up the whole wall and there's even a DVD player. Turns out Jesse didn't have to bring his after all. (Always come prepared, right?) Bumper's family has never had any qualms about big spending; he doesn't know why he hadn't already expected all this. Either way, it's the best surprise ever.

"One of these days we'll invite girls up here," Brandon continues with an excited smirk. Bumper sits up at this and the ecstatic widening of his eyes says it all.

Donald, over at the pool table teaching Benji the basics, chuckles and glances at their side of the room. "I thought this was meant to be a bonding trip."

"Girls make me nervous," Benji mumbles quietly next to him and Donald reaches over to pat the magician on the shoulder.

The seventy-five percent brunette, twenty-five percent blonde scoffs, "I can't last one whole summer without girls."

"Yeah," Bumper puts his hands behind his head as he leans back into the plush chair cushion. "And it wouldn't be fair to deny the babes any of _this_. I have to get my daily dose after all. They help relieve the tension, if you know what I mean," he waggles his eyebrows dramatically and gestures to his body.

Jesse and Donald glance at each other with identical looks of disturbance and, with pointing fingers, direct Bumper's line of sight to the cylindrical container next to him on the small, wooden table. Bumper rolls his eyes and huffs as he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a dollar, and deposits it into his very own "Douchebag" jar. (Donald and Jesse _insist _he take it with him wherever he goes.)

"How would they get here, anyway?" Unicycle asks with a confused expression on his face, using the cue cube to roughen up the tip of his pool stick. "We're in the middle of nowhere. It took an almost four hour trip just to get here!"

"About that," Aaron cuts in, wrinkling his forehead, "What happens when we need groceries and stuff? How far away is the nearest supermarket?"

"I explained this already," Bumper gives a frustrated groan. "Madine will bring us everything we need, including groceries."

"What kind of a name is Madine?"

"A really old one."

"So is this what we're gonna do all day?" Jesse asks, looking around the room at the men comfortably stretched out throughout various corners. "There's a pool outside. And the whole backyard faces the woods, so that can be an option too; play some hide-and-seek and maybe even a game of tag," Jesse finishes in part sarcasm.

He receives a muffled grunt from Brandon, whose head is about to sink into the large pillow conveniently placed by the fireplace, never to be seen again. "Of course _you're _not tired. You didn't drive like," he mutters, "five hours straight."

"I drove," Jesse justifies himself. "For like half an hour." It had been a rough set of minutes.

"How about," Donald starts, ever the pacifier, "We rest up for today, and tomorrow we go looking for more productive things to do. Besides, Austin's already asleep and you know how cranky he gets when he's woken up." He gestures toward the brown-haired boy spread out on the floor, barely visible under the pile of blankets.

"He's not coming back to earth any time soon." Benji jogs over to poke his friend repeatedly in the supposed location of his stomach, worried about his dead-like state. "The sixteen pancakes he had at breakfast must have knocked him out cold."

Jesse heaves a loud sigh as he plops back down onto the large sofa, staring at the mantle above the fireplace with a frown. It's really not his fault for being so energetic, but he rarely gets tired. Bumper used to tell him he had Red Bull running through his veins… It's a possibility.

"Well," Jesse suddenly jumps up, "Call me when it's time for lunch. I'm gonna go watch a movie."

"Don't you want to play pool?" Benji asks.

"Nah," the Bambi-eyed boy shrugs back. "I suck at it anyway."

"You do," Donald chuckles quietly, shooting him an amused smirk.

"Yeah, well, I'm never making bets with you again!" Jesse mock glares at him. "When you guys play beer pong though, let me know."

"Will do."

* * *

It takes about a half-hour to get to the main hall again; he'd forgotten how long they'd spent searching for their small man cave. He's planning on getting to know the house inside out before leaving; getting lost here would be a nightmare. His curiosity peaks with every door he passes though, and it's right before he reaches the kitchen that he decides to randomly turn the knob of the second-to-last door he sees through a small corridor.

That's where he finds the gigantesque piano Bumper had told him about.

Now, this is Jesse, lover of all things musical, so it's no surprise when his brown eyes light up like a kid who's just discovered a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. The room is spacious, with white, marble floors and high-ceiled windows – covered by heavy-weight, interlined curtains. It's the equivalent of a miniature ballroom with the white baby grand piano placed right in the middle, fit for a movie scene. And he knows movies.

His steps across the marble floor echo throughout the room, breaking all silence and he tries not to cringe at the feeling of disturbing something that seems so peaceful and untouched. When reaching the instrument, he runs a worshipping hand along the surface, and Jesse smiles as he props open the lid, causing a loud and resonant sound to cut through the quiet once again. The keys beneath are a nice shade of ivory; a bit faded but it's clear they've been well taken care of. It seems that Madine has some serious dedication to this house and everything in it.

He has a piano back at home, black and just right in size. It's placed right in front of the slide doors leading to his backyard; right where the light hits his hands as he plays. His parents had bought it as a birthday present for his fifteenth. It's most assuredly his biggest treasure _(apart from his movie collection, of course), _so he can't imagine how a piano like this one could possibly be left alone here, unused, just sitting in a room in a house only monthly visited by a maid.

Speaking of which, the cleaning products she uses must be expensive as hell because there's not one speck of dust on the instrument. Or the room. Or the rest of the house. And the furniture isn't even covered by sheets or anything. How does that even work?

Jesse jumps from his musings as he glances up and unexpectedly catches sight of his own reflection staring back in surprise. There's a mirror hanging on the wall right across from him. It looks like an antique, with its clichéd silver frame and long, oval shape. It's then that he notices that there's a couch right behind him with a small table centered in front and the centerpiece placed in the middle looking recently polished.

Yeah. _Expensive _products. Must be Mr. Clean.

So that's it. A baby grand piano, a delicate looking mirror, and a small sit-and-rest. Nothing else in the room. He feels slightly odd in it, though. It's like he's disturbing a personal space of some sort.

He snorts loudly. _Too many movies._

The house can definitely play with the mind. Go somewhere that's been uninhabited for over twenty, thirty years and it suddenly feels like the air has more right to be there than you do.

Jesse slides onto the bench and cracks his knuckles before starting to play Frederic Chopin's _Scherzo No. 2 Op. 31_. It's a piece that had taken him a while to master, especially because almost every key is used at some point, but he had it down before his teen years. The melodic notes flow nicely, though he probably should have picked something a little quieter. Jesse's fingers fly over the keys and his dimples peek out as he lets the satisfaction at playing a piece he knows completely by heart pour through him. His fingers hold onto the last note and when the room is basked in silence again, all he can do is stare down at the keys and grin.

"Great job!" a voice chirps to his far left.

"Thanks!" he turns to say to –

The air.

The bench falls backwards with a deafening bang as he throws his body weight from the piano in shock. His mind tries to process it all the three seconds he stays unmoving on the floor, before his brain catches up and _something just talked to him _and he scrambles up from his turtle-on-back position to zoom across the room to the double door, closing the solid wood behind him loudly.

To any outsider, it'd be impossible to deny that watching a grown man trip every three steps up the stairs is a thousand times better than cable. Jesse would find it funny. But he's the one tripping and _haha, no, it's not funny at all._

Reaching the third floor, he doesn't think twice about running into his room and closing the door behind him. He's panting and trying to take deep breaths as he looks around frantically before falling back onto the bed.

_What – what the hell?_

He sits up with a frown once his heart rate slows down after a few minutes. He just had… an embarrassingly major freak out… and it might have been over nothing.

Jesse's always had an overactive imagination. His mom used to tell him it was because of the movies he watched daily. He should have listened. So… _huh_. He guesses there might be _some_ negative effects to watching so much fiction. And he did watch the _Sixth Sense_ before going to bed last night, after all. He doesn't know why, really. First night in a new house, with a sort of creepy settlement… maybe because Benji and Unicycle had been so freaked out by the prospect of ghosts and he'd gotten the urge when he´d seen the Thriller Category stacked on top of his movie pile…

Look, he does not believe in ghosts, okay? He believes in fiction, and special effects, and overactive imaginations. He's not even particularly _sensitive_; he can't sense when a room has "good energy" or "bad energy" or what not. Just… no.

Well then. That's great. The humiliation… that _no one was around to see, _he thinks as he perks up. He adjusts his position on the bed to get comfortable and disconnects his laptop from the charger to settle it next to him. Just as he grabs a DVD, this time decidedly _not _a scary one, his mind unwillingly flashes back to the voice he could've _sworn_ he'd heard clear as day by the wall lacking any kind of entrance whatsoever. Jesse shakes his head and gives a forced laugh that sounds just a_ bit _hysterical.

He's watched too many movies.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Donald's last name, _New Girl's _Douchebag Jar, or any of the _Pitch Perfect_ characters... _yet. _  
**

**If you've read, please review to tell me what you think!**

**p.s. Why do I always forget about Kolio? I will find a way for him to come out in later chapters. **


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